


Nine out of Ten

by LadyAhiru



Series: Less than three <3 [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Geralt doenst think he deserves Jaskier, M/M, Morning After, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Soulmates, canon AU, unbetad we die like me if my fever doenst go down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAhiru/pseuds/LadyAhiru
Summary: The next morning Geralt wakes alone
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Less than three <3 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705393
Comments: 17
Kudos: 219





	Nine out of Ten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trahelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trahelle/gifts).



* * *

The warm morning sun shined brightly through their bedroom window and Geralt slowly opened his eyes. He lazily stretched as far as he could and smiled, his arm stretching out to pull Jaskier closer to him only to find the bed empty. He sat up, suddenly wide awake and looked around the room. The bed next to him felt cold, the smell of buttercups only faintly in the air, Jaskier must have left hours ago.

The bitter taste of fear started to spread on his tongue a ball of anxiety forming in his stomach and he found himself unable to move. Last night had been perfect, or so he had thought but now doubt started to creep into his mind, pushing aside the tender memories of their lovemaking and replacing it with fear.

Had Jaskier felt forced? Did he push too hard? Too far? Had he hurt his beloved? Has Jaskier gotten up as soon as he found the Witcher sleeping and ran as far as he could? The Witcher pushes his knees up and buried his head between them, trying to breathe through the growing panic.

If he had hurt Jaskier he would never be able to forgive himself and he curled up into a fetal position and felt the sting of rising tears gather up in his amber eyes. Jaskier had seemed to enjoy himself last night but what if it had been a ruse? A ploy, too afraid to tell the Witcher the truth?

Nine out of ten times people hated him and left. His mother who had dropped him in the woods, alone and scared, barely six years old. Renfi who had died in his arms, who had refused to let him help, and in the end he had hurt her like the monster he was. Marilka who had kicked him out of town shortly after.

The human woman he had once loved but lost because she would rather grow old with someone instead of staying with an unchanging Witcher. Was that why Jaskier had left him too? Afraid that he would not love him anymore when he was old and wrinkled? No, the bard must know that he loved his bright soul no matter what form it took.

Tears fell and Geralt started to shake, suddenly feeling cold and more alone than he had ever before.  
One part of him wanted to get up and chase after Jaskier but that would only make him more a monster than he was already. He could easily find the bard and bring him back but he had sworn to himself that he would never force the other to do anything he didn’t want and yet, last night…

He could still hear Jaskiers heavy moans in his ears, feel his soft fingertips caressing over his skin and it made him feel sick. For a second he wondered where the quiet sobs came from until he realized that he was now fully crying and rocking himself like a small child.

Nine out Ten people hated and feared him, spat at him and ran screaming, why should Jaskier be any different? He had allowed himself to live a fools dream, a fantasy and now that the harsh light of day had hit he was faced with reality.

Jaskier did not love him, Jaskier had never loved him. The bard had probably been disgusted by him and afraid but hadn’t had a chance to run before.

His sobs turned louder and more frantic as the bedroom door was opened, creaking loudly and giving Geralt pause. He turned around to shout at whatever intruder had dared enter his house when the words died in his throat. Jaskier was standing in the door, dressed in a soft-looking silken dressing gown that ended on his thighs, a tray in his hands and a shocked expression on his face.

He stormed into the room, pushed the tray onto the nightstand and climbed onto the bed. In one swift motion, the bard had crawled onto Geralts lap and pulled him into a deep hug. “Geralt? My love, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What’s going on?”

Tears still ran down Geralts cheeks and he buried his head in the crook of Jaskier neck, inhaling deeply. He smelled like the usual flowers and warm and like home and Geralt held him so tightly that the bard could barely breathe. “Please talk to me, my love! Please. Geralt! Three words or less.”

Geralts sobs turned into hiccups and he rubbed his nose against Jaskiers collarbone. “You are here.”

“Of course I am here. Where else would I be?”

Ashamed of his feelings the Witcher tried to look away but Jaskier captured his chin and gently made him turn his head so he could look at him.

“Did I do something wrong Geralt? Are you…mad at me? Is it…about last night? Are you not happy with my….with me?”

Geralt shook his head violently and pressed a soft kiss to Jaskiers lips. “I thought you left me. I woke up alone and the bed was cold and I….”

Jaskier stared at him for a whole minute before his gaze turned soft. “Oh, my dear heart. I will never leave you. I was making breakfast.”

He rearranged himself on Geralts laps so he could straddle him, wrapping his arms around his Witcher. “You are my beloved, my Witcher, my dearest. I would never leave you of my own accord.”

He kissed Geralt, deep and full of love and brushed the loose hair strands out of his face. “I love you so much Geralt. I promise I will show you till the day I die.”

“Promise me?”

Jaskier nodded, smiling at Geralt who whipped the drying tears of his face.

“I swear. I love you!”

Jaskier pressed soft kisses onto his face. First onto his eyebrows, followed by his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks and finally his mouth, gently and full of care like a fluttering butterfly wing. Between every kiss, he would whisper “I love you” over and over again until Geralt could feel the tension in his shoulders slowly subsiding.

Geralt held him close, the breakfast was forgotten until he felt himself calm down again. Nine out of Ten people left him but Jaskier was his tenth.


End file.
